A Light in Dark Places
by caffeinefreetea
Summary: Looking back on that snowy night in Eriador, Aragorn felt like he was seeing a separate version of himself.  One that was still happy and safe in Rivendell, still confident in his reality, still believing in good and evil.  That was then.  This is now.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So this is rated M, but I doubt I'll write any explicit slash. This will have a number of yaoi relationships though, as well as het, just as a warning. Also, I haven't finished this story, and although I know generally where I want it to go, I don't know how far I'll take it. I have a lot more written that just needs editing though, so please stick with it!

Also, please keep an open mind about Mordor and Sauron, I know it's totally AU, but it makes it more interesting this way. Tolkien's only weakness is his division of Middle Earth into good and evil; this is an attempt to erase those lines. So please just go with it! If something doesn't make sense, don't hesitate to ask!

Lastly, the idea for this story was originally inspired by catwjl's The Dark Lord's Consort. Excellent story, but the sequel isn't finished, and I really wanted to write the end of it and put my own spin on it.

P.S. - THIS IS THE FINAL, BETAED CHAPTER! Courtesy of my lovely friend Writethesun :))

**Chapter 1: Novelties**

The wind howled, the snow fell, and the lights of Bree were nowhere to be seen. Aragorn momentarily accepted a cease-fire with the unrelenting storm and collapsed against a tree. In this weather he couldn't be sure of anything, but he knew he could not still be south of the town. He had left the Angle three weeks ago to gather information concerning the Shire; rumors had reached the Dúnedain that orcs had multiplied in the Northern Marches, even raiding the occasional settlement. With a growl of frustration, Aragorn searched the grey skies for any sign of the Sun. It was futile. He could barely keep his eyes open long enough to look before they closed instinctually to protect against the snow. The wind howled louder, making the ranger shiver and hug himself for warmth. A cozy tent and a warm fire looked very appealing. The snow lay thin beneath a copse of pine trees across from him; he could wait out the storm there. Carefully, Aragorn weighed his options. If he resumed his efforts to find Bree today, he would risk becoming completely lost. However, stopping now would delay potentially vital information. Gandalf had mentioned to him a month and a half ago that he believed great importance rested with the Shire and its simple inhabitants, or at least importance that exaggerated their previous involvement in the affairs of Middle Earth.

The howling wind picked up as he deliberated, and Aragorn unconsciously stepped toward the copse and set his pack down. He was exhausted. Now somewhat protected from the wind, Aragorn straightened up, his senses suddenly heightened. The howling was just as distinct as it had been a moment ago, and it was quickly getting louder. In desperation he strained his ears, trying to discover where the sound was coming from, so he could run the other way, but to no avail. The soft rumbling of many feet reached his ears. Aragorn began to panic; he had no chance of defending himself against wolves in the snow, especially if orcs were the bonus attraction. As a last resort, he flung himself up a nearby tree. The pine's evergreen needles would hide him if the orcs just meant to pass by, and if not he would have a better vantage point for his arrows. If he could kill off the wolves from the tree before the orcs reached him, he just might stand a chance.

As the wolves approached Aragorn's would-be campsite, he notched his bow and settled himself against the trunk of the tree. He could see his enemy now through the trees, but it was a difficult shot. Aragorn hesitated. There still could be a chance they were only out hunting, and would miss him. With a jolt of surprise, he realized, he wasn't looking at a motley assortment of orcs, but _men. _They were moving steadily closer, the wolves sniffing out his trail. Aragorn hesitated breathlessly, arrow quivering with tension. In a flurry of excitement and snow a dog caught his scent; voices rose louder in a crescendo of anticipation faster and faster toward him and without thinking Aragorn released the arrow, piercing the shoulder of one of the men. Quickly he notched another, and managed to hit one more before they ducked behind the trees. A moment passed. Notched arrows poked their way around trunks to his left; they missed him but offered no targets. Another volley immediately followed, and another; ducking and weaving Aragorn secured himself behind the thick central arm of the tree, only to come face to face with an arrow from the other side that blew his bow straight out of his hands. He had only a second to wonder at the strangeness of this before he catapulted himself to the ground and drew his sword.

Gruff voices and rough hands dragged Aragorn painfully into consciousness, and he quickly wished they hadn't. He tasted blood in his mouth and tried moving his tongue, but found it to be extraordinarily heavy. He lifted his eyelids slightly and immediately groaned in pain, attracting the attention of his captors. Aragorn heard footsteps approaching him and tried again to open his eyes, this time with moderate success.

"Arre you well, rranger?" the man asked, in a heavy Haradrian accent. His voice rolled richly from deep within his chest, sinking fully in the r's and lighting on the l's with the tip of this tongue. Aragorn didn't answer; he was desperately trying to piece together what had happened. He had been captured by the men near Bree, of that much he was certain. But it was far too warm for him to be north of Gondor, and now someone was asking him if he felt all right. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Aragorn took in the brownish land around him, the empty trees, a campfire surrounded by men in a protected hollow, and his questioner standing before him, wearing the symbol of the Eye of Sauron on his collar.

"Rranger? Have you no voice? I do not believe you have nothing to say, my frriends tell me yourr tongue has not been silent in two weeks."

_What?_ Aragorn stopped his thinking in his tracks. _Two weeks?_ There was no way he'd been unconscious that long. There was no way he'd been speaking, either. At his wit's end, Aragorn voiced his concerns to his captor.

"What?" he asked.

"But of courrse you do not remember. I apologize. We drrugged you, to ease in trransport." The man above him gave a small smile at the look of utter confusion on Aragorn's face.

"Why don't I remember you drugging me? How long have we been traveling? Where am I?" The questions flowed unchecked; he had never felt so disoriented in his life.

"It is the drrug, I do not know. You have been trraveling forr a forrtnight and five days. They took you arround Emyn Muil and the Marrshes, and now you arre a day's jourrney from Morrodor's southerrn gate," he said, not without candor.

"I'm going to Mordor?" Aragorn asked. His mouth went dry with fear. If there was one place he didn't want to be, it was Mordor.

"Yes, Lord Sauron asked for you specifically. He was verry, uhh, how do you say? He would not allow unknowns, he made extrreme details . . ." the man trailed off, looking down at Aragorn for input.

"Uptight?" Aragorn said hesitantly.

"Yes! He was verry uptight about yourr capture."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked. He had never heard Sauron described in that way, as if he had human characteristics, let alone ones like 'uptight'.

"I do not know, he would not tell me why he wanted you. But he would not have his mind changed," the man said.

Aragorn rubbed his eyes worriedly with his bound hands and looked off into the woods. This was bad. Worse than the time he'd been trapped under the ice of a small pond while Legolas fought off an army of orcs above him. In fact, this might actually be the worst situation he had ever been in. His captor knelt down beside him, brow furrowed at Aragorn's obvious distress.

"Do you know why he wants you?" he asked. Aragorn looked at him calculatingly.

"Who are you?" he asked in return, not yet ready to divulge his heritage to a stranger.

"My name is Kadiin. I am Saurron's Interrnal Affairrs Ministerr. Although I do not know why this job is interrnal affairrs," Kadin said with a laugh, sitting down beside Aragorn with a small smirk.

"Sauron has ministers?" he asked, incredulous.

"Of courrse. One man can't rrun an whole countrry," he said, laughter bubbling again from deep in his chest. Aragorn felt himself blush at the subtle scorn in the man's voice.

"Well, what is there to run?" Aragorn said, a little defensively. Kadin looked at him curiously.

"What exactly do yourr people believe about my countrry? We have a rregular human population and rroads, and laws like any other land. How do you do things in the Norrth?"

Aragorn stared. He couldn't believe what he was hearing; nothing made sense. First of all, he couldn't believe he was having a civil conversation with Mordor's Internal Affairs Minister. No, first of all, he couldn't believe Mordor _had_ an Internal Affairs Minister.

"Rranger?"

Aragorn shook is head in wonder. "Well, Kadin, I think this is going to be a very enlightening experience for me, although I highly doubt I'll survive it."

"You think he wants to kill you?" Kadin asked, with surprise.

"What else would he want of me? I am his sworn enemy; to destroy him is my birthright. I have a lot of information too, that's probably why he wanted me brought all the way here," Aragorn said with a rather obvious hint of despair. Kadin stared at him, then sighed.

"I do not think that is why he wants you," he whispered before standing up and walking back to the campfire, leaving a dumbfounded Ranger is his wake.

As night fell, Kadin again approached Aragorn, leaving him with a gritty meal and a water-skin, but no explanation. Once again he wondered what his captor had meant, and what Sauron could possibly want with him, if not torture and death. It was an endlessly futile circle. In frustration he turned to the food. Realizing he hadn't been given a spoon, Aragorn looked up, surprised to see the men sucking the meal straight from their bowls. Hesitantly, he mimicked their motions. It had little taste in and of itself, but the bits of dried fruit mixed in made it mildly sweet. In wonder, Aragorn tried to identify what he was eating. The berries he had seen before, although rarely, but the vast majority he didn't think he had ever tasted. He savored them piece-by-piece, enjoying the novelty of their flavor. As he ate, realizing the course of his life was about to be radically altered, he pictured himself as a child in the gardens of Imladris, staring up at soft, enduring glow of Elendil just as he was now. A cool breeze lifted his hair and was gone like the whisper of a passing thought.

**A/N: ** Please Review! I'd really appreciate any criticism or comments :D


	2. Chapter 2: Arrival

**A/N:** An **IMPORTANT POINT** about this chapter - Based on the expert advise of my lovely Beta, Writethesun (read her stories!), I've decided to return Sauron to his original angelic form, as a Maia. That's somewhere in between an elf and a god, I suppose. He appears to the people of Nùmenor as a Maia, you can read all about in the Silmarillion, if you haven't already ;)

Also, at this point you're only supposed to have as much knowledge as Aragorn, so if you feel confused, that's probably good. But don't hesitate to ask! Enjoy and review :D

**Chapter 2: Arrival**

The next morning Aragorn awoke surrounded by sun-drenched dew. The air was warm; he noted with surprise that it was well after dawn. His captors were breaking camp. Taking a deep breath, Aragorn reminded himself that he had a whole day to prepare for certain torture and death. He closed his eyes and concentrated on calming his heart rate.

"Rranger, your brreakfast." Kadin stood above him with a hunk of bread and a water-skin. Aragorn sighed. And to think, Elladan and Elrohir hadn't even managed to save him a single slice of bacon at his last ever breakfast in Rivendell. He made a point to make his brothers feel very guilty the next time he saw them. _If I ever see them again at all . . ._

"Thank you. Sir," Aragorn added as an afterthought, taking what was offered. He was still a little unsure of his place. Kadin spoke to him like an equal, but he was quite obviously not a free man. His captor chuckled, but said nothing. Not for the first time, Aragorn realized he had no idea what was going on.

After breakfast they were on the road. Kadin had bound Aragorn's hands and tied them to his mount, and he found himself constantly tripping and stumbling behind his captors. As they passed southward, the trees quickly thinned into pastureland and Aragorn could clearly see the southern march of Mordor rising in the distance. A small plume of smoke rose from the active volcano. In an obvious attempt to deny reality for a couple more hours, Aragorn concentrated on the beautiful scenery surrounding them. Looking into the distance, he noticed what could be small huts among a copse of trees, dotted with sheep and cows.

"Um, Kadin? Sir?"

"There is no need to addrress me so, Rranger. I am called Kadin."

"As you wish. Who lives in those houses?" Aragorn asked, pointed in the huts.

"They arre _salthdiq, _not Haradrrim, not Mordorrian. I do not know the meaning of the worrd in yourr language, but perrhaps it could be trranslated as 'old ones'. They have always lived herre, on this land. And so it is theirrs," Kadin answered.

"I see. But haven't the people of Mordor and Harad been here for just as long?"

"My people came frrom the deep south, and frrom Ruhn, long ago. I do not know why, or how, I am not a scholarr. The salthdiq have learrned our language, but we have not learrned theirrs."

Aragorn hummed in acknowledgement, staring curiously at the mysterious huts. A small road turned off the main path and ran down to the village; as they passed, children turned to stare, neither wary nor welcoming.

"If I may, Rranger, you have not yet given me yourr name. Orr have you none?" Kadin asked, turning slightly in his saddle. Aragorn hesitated, then decided on his elvish name.

"Estel. I am called Estel."

"Elham borro Estel-lam. That is how we say 'nice to meet you.'" Kadin said with a wry smile. Aragorn repeated the words slowly, sounding them out until his captor nodded his approval.

"This is not the tongue of the orcs; what do you call your language?" Aragorn asked. Kadin laughed loudly, and proceeded to recount to his colleagues what Aragorn had said.

"How is it you people know so little, and yet prride yourrselves on being a seat of ancient knowledge?" he said, still laughing. Aragorn smiled in embarrassment. "Of courrse it's not the language of the orr'cs. Theirr tongue is theirr own, and farr underrdeveloped. We speak Morodorrlin. I suppose you would say Mordorrian. It is similar to Haradrrian."

"I see," Aragorn nodded in understanding. Unable to resist learning a new language, he continued, "Teach me more?" For the rest of the day, they talked and laughed. Aragorn told Kadin of his adventures with his brothers, and received in return stories of Kadin's exploits in the palace. After a while he untied Aragorn's hands and walked beside him.

"So, you and Sauron are close?"

"Yes, we have become good frriends in rrecent yearrs," he said with a smile. "It is an . . interresting rrelationship." Aragorn chuckled and looked pensively out over the fields.

"It is a difficult thing to maintain, frriendship, when one rrules and the otherr obeys," he continued. Aragorn turned, but Kadin was not looking at him; his eyes roved over memory. "We have managed it. Although I fearr him, somewhat. I fearr forr him." Kadin turned, their eyes met, Aragorn drew in breath to speak, and a man ahead of them called out Kadin's name. Aragorn let his thoughts slip back from the tip of this tongue down into the hollows of his mind. _Fear . . . fear what? And why?_

"We arre coming up to the gate, Rranger. Best to tie you up again so we can move more quickly," Kadin said, after a short conversation with the man in front. Aragorn nodded his ascent, and he was pulled up into the saddle behind Kadin.

The main thoroughfare leading into Mordor was a hum of activity when compared to the loneliness of the plains; dark-skinned couriers from the deep south rode impeccably on proud steeds while back-bent peasants pulled carts of vegetables, fruits, spices, and wheat, trailing children who called out to each other, driving sheep before them. As they sped up gently to a trot, Aragorn noticed other men tied up as he was. He wondered again about his fate, but the thought was quickly driven from his mind as he stared up at the ancient stone, crawling with guards. They rode straight through past saluting door wardens, while peasants and couriers alike moved to the side of the road; apparently Internal Affairs Minister was a position of note. Almost as soon as they passed through the mountains, the road was surrounded by well laid out fields dotted here and there with small conglomerations of houses. Little streams, or irrigation ditches, crisscrossed the land alongside footpaths; children selling tea and various snacks from stands along the side of the road ran out barefoot to meet them. In a desperate attempt to come to grips with what he was seeing, Aragorn leaned over to his captor, "You know, in my country, we think this is a wasteland."

Kadin's poised form immediately doubled over in laughter. He turned in his seat to look at Aragorn.

"You arre joking."

"I joke not."

This left Kadin nearly in tears, and Aragorn dissolved into laughter as well in relief that the crossing into Mordor hadn't obliterated all normalcy from his life.

"This is Nurrn, as farr as you can see," Kadin said, after getting control of himself. "In the distance, you see the hills? Just behind them is Ishq-dûrr, the palace. The surrrounding city is called Decham. I was borrn therre."

Aragorn smiled at the warmth in Kadin's face. He tried to pronounce the names in Kadin's guttural speech, and was rewarded with laughter and eventually a nod of approval.

"Dûr, like Barad-dûr?" he asked.

"Yes, it means towerr. When you see the palace, you will underrstand."

"I am going to the palace?"

Kadin turned around again and looked at Aragorn questioningly. "Of courrse, Rranger. Wherre else would you go?"

"I thought we were going to Barad-dûr." Kadin rolled his eyes.

"Barad-dûrr is for the militarry, not forr us. Besides, _Kintachim_ will want to see you immediately, I prresume." Aragorn was silent for a moment. Judging from the fact that all of his previous assumptions about Mordor had been false, he felt it was safe to assume that there was something more to Sauron than a eye-shaped fireball. He proceeded cautiously.

"So . . . Sauron lives in the palace?" he asked.

"It's the palace, Rranger. The king lives in the palace," Kadin stated with the utmost sarcasm. "Or, forrgive me, is that not how it works in yourr countrry?" he asked after a pause.

"No, it does, but we think Sauron lives in Barad-dûr. No one knows about Ishq-dûr," Estel explained.

"Ah, I see."

Aragorn hesitated to ask the question that was foremost in his mind, and so the conversation dissipated. He stared around him at the countryside. It had none of the lushness of Elrond's gardens, but it was beautiful in it's own way. The Sun was only a couple hours from setting, and he turned to ask where they would be spending the night.

"We will stop at a marrket town along the way, on this rroad. It's a typical rresting place for trravelers. We will arrrive in an hourr or so, I apologize if you arre hungrry." Kadin answered.

Estel chuckled under his breath, "You treat me surprisingly well for a prisoner."

"You arre no rregular prrisoner. I told you, Sauron asked for you specially."

"Yes, but why?"

Kadin hesitated slightly and looked out across the fields. "I do not know."

"But you guess," Aragorn prompted.

"Yes, I guess." Kadin shifted uncomfortably in the saddle, but said nothing, and Aragorn let the subject drop. There was no point in asking a question that wouldn't be answered. He resigned himself to waiting, albeit a little more hopefully.

The market town, apparently named Khadimit, was brown, flat and dusty, much like the surrounding country. Aragorn could see it even from miles away, a hazy lump surrounded by a brown-green ocean and the occasional tree. The last of the golden haze of sunset melted into the quiet hum of early evening as they made their way toward the square, occasionally passing traders with carts and mothers returning with baskets of vegetables. Children playing in the dry grass by the roadside stopped to stare; others ran alongside the horses calling out to Kadin and his guard, who waved and laughed until their mothers called them in.

As they moved further into town, the mud huts of the countryside disappeared, to be replaced by homes made of stone and wood that huddled around the road and seemed to climb on top of each other. Aragorn found it impossible to tell where one stopped and another began, connected as they were by flat open rooftops where people stood talking, eating, and cooking. Twisting back alleys drew his eye, full of unending paths and possibilities. He desperately wanted to explore.

The center of town was a huge market, still bustling sedately with last minute customers and closing procedures. Through the dusk, Aragorn could see the reason for Khadimit's existence: a large well, rimmed with stone, and traversed by a complex system and buckets, ropes, and pulleys that creaked in the light breeze. Kadin guided them around the edge of the market, moving slowly through the crowd, until they came to a quiet by-road. He stopped before a stone building that leaned so far across the road that it connected with its counterpart on the other side. Its top levels were made of wood, supported by a stone archway that seemed more of an afterthought than the original design. Marveling at the architecture, Aragorn didn't notice Kadin slide from the saddle until hands grabbed him to help him down. Trying to regain his balance with his hands tied behind his back, he hurried after his captor into the tavern.

"Asucule, Kadin-tach!" The bartender greeted him loudly, causing many of the customers to turn and stare. Aragorn looked around himself until one of the guards smacked the back of his head and grumbled. He looked humbly at his feet. After orchestrating supper and bed, Kadin pulled Aragorn close by his forearm, marching him toward a set of stairs in the back. The others dissipated, recognizing their dismissal, and moved to sit with mugs of ale, awaiting their dinner.

"You arre not to look them at the eyes, it is disrrespectful," he said quietly as they climbed the stairs and entered their room.

"In the eyes," Aragorn corrected.

"What?"

"We say, 'look them in the eyes', not 'at the eyes'."

Kadin laughed, and Aragorn smiled in return, only then realizing he had been afraid as the tension slipped from his body.

"Yes, yes, in the eyes," Kadin said to himself impatiently. He began to disarm and take off his outer clothing, and Aragorn took a minute to get his bearings. The room was dark; dusk deepened around the town and the candles had yet to be lit. There was a single bed, wide and low to the ground; a table, also very low, a fireplace (unlit); and a couple of cushions stacked under the window. There were no chairs, so Aragorn sat timidly on the bed. He undid his shoes. Kadin was squatting next to the table, going over some papers and counting coins. He mumbled quietly to himself. For what must have been the millionth time in the last few days, Aragorn wondered what was to become of himself.

"Rranger," Kadin said without turning.

"Yes?"

"You must bathe. Now."

"Are you trying to say that I stink?"

"Yes." He looked down at himself and made a sound of disgust. "We both do."

Aragorn chuckled and followed Kadin out of their room and toward a staircase at the end of the hall.

"We keep our baths on the rroof," he said, "because the sun helps to warm the water. The only trrouble is getting the water to the rroof. It must be pumped, but this is done regularly enough that there is always water. It is a not fun job though."

"It is not a fun job," Aragorn corrected again. "I suppose there's not much use in me learning to speak . . . what was it? Morodorlin?"

"Yes, Morodorlin. And why would there be no use? I do not know anyone who speaks the Common Tongue in Morrdor. Although _Kintachim _speaks Elvish, which you also speak, yes?"

"Yes. I consider it my native tongue actually."

Kadin made to ask something else, but at this point they had reached the roof, and he became distracted by the process of bathing. A woman handed them towels, and Kadin spoke to her a moment before leading Aragorn to an empty hole surrounded by curtains. He opened a chute in the side of the hole, and it filled quickly with warm water. He began to undress. Once he was comfortably settled in the water, Kadin posed his question again.

"What I said before? You mean, that elvish is my native tongue?"

"Yes, 'native tongue', what is that?"

"Oh, as in, my language, the one I have spoken from birth, the one I am most comfortable in. I grew up with the elves, so I spoke their language before I learned the language of my own people."

"I see," Kadin said thoughtfully. "_L'a inah,_ I have said I do not think _Kintachim_ wishes to kill you, so I think it is of use to learrn our language."

There was a pregnant silence.

"Do not ask me again, Ranger."

Aragorn shut his mouth and sighed. He opened it again.

"What is that word you keep saying, when you refer to Sauron?"

"_Kintachim?_ It is how we call our kings. You would do well to call him that, and not by his name."

"He is my enemy, you know. I am not sure I want to show him respect." Kadin gave no response, and the conversation died.

"Will you teach me more of your language, then?" Aragorn asked. Kadin smiled softly, and acquiesced.

Later, after Aragorn had successfully managed to put on the new clothes that were brought to him and eat a dinner of rice, beans, and chicken, he sat on the cushions in front of a dying fire, laughing with Kadin.

"_Grishnaln,_ _ummat leen ni formoot bahln wa mishmish'an lo sa orc,_" he said, repeating the phrase for, 'I'm sorry, your mother is so ugly I mistook her for an orc.' Kadin shook with uncontrollable laughter.

"Did I say it right?" Aragorn asked, grinning.

"Yes, yes," he said, managing to calm down. "Yes. You arre quite good. You learrn fast."

"Well, thank you. It's not too dissimilar from the Common Tongue, although all the words and sounds are different." They burst into another round of laughter at this comment, at the end of which, Kadin stood.

"Time for bed."

Aragorn pulled more cushions from the stack and arranged them on the floor.

"What arre you doing, Rranger?"

"Um, I was, well, I was going to sleep here," he stuttered. Silently Kadin pointed behind him.

"There is a bed, Rranger."

"Yes, but, there's only one."

"You can not need that much rroom . . ."

"Are you suggesting we sleep in the same bed?"

"This is not custom for you?" Kadin looked genuinely surprised. Aragorn stared, trying to grasp what Kadin was implying, if he was implying anything at all. Sure, he had slept next to Legolas and his brothers occasionally, but that was _Legolas_ and _his brothers._

"No, it is not custom for me!"

"Alrright, Rranger, I apologize - "

"My name is Estel."

"Estel. I apologize. The name is too light and airry for you."

"My mother gave it to me," he said with a slight edge to his voice. He was rather defensive about his mother.

"I see. And your fatherr gave you anotherr?"

"Yes."

There was silence.

"Sleep on the floorr, then, if you wish. But you will soon tirre of it; we do not make beds for one in this countrry. Terrrible waste of wood." He climbed in and rolled next to the wall. "In fact, I do not think I have _everr_ slept in a bed by myself."

Aragorn rolled his eyes and sighed. "Oh, all right then. I suppose I might as well get used to it."

Kadin did not turn, but smiled gently toward the wall.

**A/N: **Chapter 3 coming soon! Review, review! :D


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **So, just to formally inform everyone, Kadin's name is pronounced KadEEn, not KAYdin. It should rhyme with canteen. It's a real Arabic name :)

Also, thanks to my one single anon reviewer, Yuki3434! I'm so glad you liked it, please keep reading! And I'd love to hear anything you didn't like, or didn't think was realistic, or just something you'd like to see in the story :)

Oh, a warning I forgot to put on the first chapter - there's going to be some seriously dub (or straight up non) con. But it's not going to be one of those stories where someone's raped and then immediately falls in love with their rapist. Cuz people aren't like that. I'm going to do my best to write this with realistic human emotions within a realistic timeframe, so please stick with it, and let me know if you think it's not working!

Lastly, on the subject of timeframes, Aragorn is captured by Kadin in year 2993 of the Third Age, and the Ring is passed to Frodo about 8 years later in 3001. At that point, I'm switching to the movie version where Bilbo leaves, the Nazgul are sent out, and Gandalf travels to Gondor and returns to the Shire all in just a few frames, after which Frodo's journey begins. In the book this takes like 30 years, or something outrageous. So that's that. Ask if you have any questions, I don't think it'll be too confusing in the actual story.

My Beta is on me about finishing chapter 4, and writing longer chapters, so since I'm on break this week that'll probably happen. Hopefully. ان شاء الله

**Chapter 3: The Palace**

Kadin awoke in the early hours of the morning to Estel's light breathing. It was dark; still an hour at least until dawn. He rolled over and looked around suspiciously, wondering what had woken him. There was a knock at the door. Ah, that was why.

"Excellent, you have returned," he said.

"Sauron-kintakhim sends you his thanks, Kadin-takh, and a message," the man said, bowing and holding out a letter.

"Thank you. Go and rest. You need not leave with us, I am sure we will no longer be needing your services. You may take your time in returning to the palace."

The man bowed his thanks and left. Kadin lit a candle quickly and began to read:

_Kadin,_

_ You have done well, my friend, assuming the man you are bringing me is the one I seek. Remember: he will bear the ring I described to you, and he will be called Aragorn, although this, I am sure, he will hide from you. Make sure of these things beyond all doubt, and do not return to me if he is the wrong man. I will only be furious. I would rather that you take all year, and do it right once, than give me false hope._

He stopped and reread that line one more time, wondering at the strange phrasing. Despite Aragorn's obvious strategic importance, Sauron's overwhelming interest of late in the heir of Isilidur was unusual to say the least. The military unit Kadin had left with a year ago was one of the most highly trained this side of the Anduin, and their mandate for speed and secrecy rivaled that of his search for the Ring. There was politics going on here; Kadin could sense it, and he hated it.

_Be that as it may, I trust that you will not fail me. Out of all my courtiers and ministers, you are the only one of integrity; and, more importantly, the only one intelligent enough to be able to find out a man's name by a means other than torture. It is indeed my wish that he not be harmed, as I told you, and please try to make him feel comfortable. I hope to keep him around awhile, and that will be much easier if he has some happiness. Since he will most certainly hate me, it would be good if he at least enjoys your company. _

_ I apologize for being so mysterious, when normally I would trust you with everything. I would have told you my intentions before, but they were and as yet remain extremely delicate. I will explain everything when you arrive._

_ Your friend and lord,_

_ Sauron_

Kadin sighed with confusion and worry, and looked up to find himself staring into a pair of intensely focused grey eyes.

Aragorn did not look away, but followed Kadin's movements as he blew out the candle and moved to return to bed.

"Tell me what has happened."

"Nothing has happened, Estel. Go back to sleep, we need not wake for anotherr hour or so."

"Then what was the letter?"

"A message from the king, that is all. I sent a runnerr ahead to tell him I was rreturning."

"What did he say? Did he say what he will do to me?" Aragorn sat upright, bracing himself against the mattress with his right hand. Kadin glanced at it, and the ring he bore on his forefinger.

"No."

"Nothing feels right about this. I ought to have been dragged off to be tortured in the dungeons of Barad-dûr. I don't understand."

He lay back down on the bed, and Kadin's eyes followed the ring, wondering and worrying.

"Neither do I, Rranger. Neither do I."

When Kadin awoke again, it was just after sunrise, and Estel was sitting on a cushion staring helplessly at a letter he couldn't read. He rose silently, under Aragorn's open stare, and slowly took the letter from his hands.

"Forgive me," Aragorn whispered.

"There is nothing to forrgive, Rranger."

"Someone brought us breakfast a little while ago; it is there, on the table."

"Excellent. You did not eat?" Aragorn shook his head, still staring into his hands. Kadin poured him tea and handed him a bowl of rice and broth.

"Thank you." Kadin smiled.

"I feel so," Aragorn paused, struggling for words, "like a child, again." He gave a despondent chuckle. "I am afraid, Kadin. Afraid as I have not been in a long time. Before, before this, I expected torture and death and could face it. I am not afraid of dying, but I am afraid now. My world is not the same as is was, and I don't, I guess, I don't know how to make sense of this. I don't know what to expect, anymore."

His voice faded into a whisper. Kadin stared at him, empathetic. It was surprising, to see him so shaken, but in hindsight Kadin realized he should have expected it. He wondered if Sauron knew how this experience was affecting Estel. He wasn't sure Sauron thought about other people that way.

"If I had answerrs for you, Estel, I swearr I would give them. But it is natural, I think, to feel as you feel. You've been thrrough quite a, euh, a shock," Kadin said encouragingly.

"I suppose. I wish you would tell me what he is planning for me."

Kadin sighed, and decided to take a chance.

"I have told you, Rranger, I do not know. In the letter, at the end he apologizes to me for being, I can not trranslate this word; he apologizes for, for not explaining. He says," he made a sound of exasperation, "he says it is not good to tell me." Kadin leaned in close and dropped his voice. "Things have been happening in this countrry; things that have not happened beforre. Something is changing. Something that is bigger than us; bigger than even you, Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

The silence dripped with tension. Aragorn stared, not even bothering to hide the surprise in his face.

"That is the name yourr fatherr gave you, is it not?" Kadin whispered.

"Yes. It is." Aragorn looked away again and was silent for a moment. "You knew?"

"I guessed. Sauron guessed. I knew of your rring, but it is hard to find a man by a rring, and it is not a sure sign. You carry yourrself as a king, my frriend, even when you arre bound and helpless. You must learrn to be more common if you wish to hide your identity," he said with a smirk. Aragorn laughed lightly.

"Well, I suppose there was little use in hiding it anyway. I am sure Sauron would have known in a moment."

"Yes, he would have. But he thrreatened his unbrridled rrage if I brought the wrong man, so I decided it was better to know for sure." At this Aragorn laughed, fully and deeply.

A half an hour later they had packed up their things and were waiting outside the inn for the remainder of their guard. Kadin had bound Aragorn's hands again, and the ranger was trying, with little success, not to stare openly at his surroundings. The town was beautiful in the early morning; soft sunlight fell between the warm sandstone buildings, and the bustle of the morning market colored the air. Aragorn smiled and waved slightly at a child who had stopped to look. The child smiled in return, but his mother shooed him along, giving Aragorn a frightened glance over her shoulder. Aragorn frowned, and Kadin pulled sharply on his rope in annoyance, giving him a pointed look. He dropped his eyes humbly, deciding against glaring at his captor. Kadin had said he ought to act less like a king; Aragorn thought he might as well practice.

When the last two stragglers appeared, Kadin swung into the saddle without a word, pulling Aragorn up roughly behind him. They returned to the market and took the south-bound road out of the town, the air now filled with wood smoke and the smell of breakfast. Very soon, Aragorn could see the palace rising in the distance, and the city that surrounded it sprawled across the dusty hills.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they reached the city gates; Aragorn felt either that it had taken twenty minutes or a lifetime, though he couldn't decide which. Ishq-dûr looked everything like a capital city; a cacophony of light and color and life. It was hot and noisy, and it set his teeth on edge. Buildings climbed on top of each other haphazardly, rising up toward the palace, which sat on a small hill. Alleyways twisted and tumbled away from the main thoroughfare, though, unlike in Khadimit, these were paved and bustling with shops, restaurants, and richly dressed men. In a bizarre moment, the clip-clip of horse hooves on stone reminded Aragorn of exactly the way they _didn't_ sound on the grassy paths of Rohan. He gave his thoughts a piercing mental glare, demanding to know exactly why he had thought that, but they offered no explanation.

"I grew up just down that rroad, Arragorn," Kadin said, pointing down a rather large by-road. Aragorn didn't quite like the way that name sounded in Kadin's mouth. He realized he didn't like the way that name sounded in _anyone's _mouth. The thought disconcerted him.

"Please call me Estel, it is more comfortable for me."

"As you wish, Rranger."

"Do your parents still live there?" Aragorn asked, after a pause.

"No. No longer. My fatherr passed away, and in his absence my motherr stays with me, so as not to be alone. I am theirr only child." He spoke so softly Aragorn could barely hear him. "I live in the palace now."

Aragorn didn't answer. He looked up at the tower rising above him. It was a wide circular building pigeon-holed with open windows; at times it seemed to Aragorn that he could see straight through. Annexes and passageways and bathrooms were stuck on at odd intervals, as if built as afterthoughts. In fact, as they came around a corner, he could see scaffolding rising two-thirds of the way up the wall. As they came up to the gate before the palace, the flow of traffic increased exponentially. A sprawling square lay to their left, home to an open-air market similar to the one in Khadimit but infinitely cleaner. On their right, the imposing façade of the palace gates loomed over them. Aragorn noticed absently that they were beautifully carved, but his attention was quickly distracted when Kadin dismounted before Ishq-dûr's front door.

"Keep yourr eyes lowered at all times, and only speak when you arre spoken to," he said, handing his reins to a stable boy.

"It is not in my nature to show weakness before an enemy," Aragorn replied vehemently. Kadin gave him a look that clearly expressed his opinion on the matter, but said nothing. Aragorn could have sworn he could hear his own heartbeat. The doors pulled back and Kadin sailed into the throne room, his voice rolling through the still air and breezing out the open windows at the back of the hall.

"Greetings, Sauron-kintachim, I – I have brought you that which you seek." Kadin bowed sweepingly before his king, but it was obvious that the pause had not gone unnoticed; a man now standing at Sauron's side narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Then something happened that, once again, smashed Aragorn's preconceived notions to dust and blew them away into oblivion. Eyes lit with joy, Sauron embraced Kadin with surprising familiarity, without even a glance toward the ranger. He stared in wonder. They traded quiet words of greeting that struck an ache deep in his heart, throbbing to the sound of his friends' names. Before Aragorn could collect himself, eyes pinned him to the ground.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor. Welcome to Mordor," he said, opening his arms and smiling ironically. There was a silence in which the man with the suspicious eyes stepped quietly forward.

"What's this, lost your tongue? Well, I'm sure we can help you find it," he whispered, his voice as soft as it was deadly.

"We shall see."

The man chuckled softly. He held Aragorn's jaw and ran his thumb over his lips, making the ranger jump back in surprise. He then stumbled, due to his bound hands, but the man caught him by the arm and walked around behind him, trailing a hand on his waist.

"I like this one. It's too bad I have already promised him to you, my friend," he said in rough Morodorlin. Aragorn couldn't understand the foreign tongue, but the flash in Kadin's eyes was not hard to read.

"_My_ men captured him, Mirroc, and therefore he is _mine_. I need no promise from you," Sauron said fiercely, causing Kadin's eyebrows to float half-way up his forehead.

"Ah, I see. Then forgive me," Mirroc said with an insolent smile. Stepping up close to Sauron, he whispered in his ear, "Just make sure you put him to the correct use. Waste not." Sauron's eyes darkened, and nothing was said until Mirroc had swept out of the hall, at which point Kadin let out a low whistle. The sardonic smile on Sauron's face was replaced by something hard as stone.

"Come, Ranger," Sauron commanded. Still utterly confused, Aragorn gave Kadin a startled glance, but the man only nodded in the direction the king was walking. So Aragorn followed, feeling highly unnerved.

After many winding staircases and hallways overlooking, and sometimes crossing, a beautiful courtyard, they arrived at a door on the third story directly across from the throne room. Sauron turned to him, and spoke in perfect elvish.

"This floor is for honored guests, although this room is rather small. You will stay here." Aragorn raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"What do you mean? Would you prefer the dungeons?"

"Perhaps. Nicer lodging is usually indicative of more intuitive torture."

Aragorn actually jumped when Sauron laughed deeply, and found himself smiling in response as he looked over the low table and bed carved into the wall. He stepped out onto a balcony facing the courtyard, and Sauron followed.

"You have experience in these matters?"

"Yes, one could say that." Sauron chuckled again.

"It is a shame we are on opposite sides of a war, my friend. I am sure we would have been strong allies." Aragorn glanced at him sharply. _You could always stop trying to take over the world,_ he thought to himself, but said nothing.

"Um, may I ask . . ." Aragorn began and then trailed off, uncertain as to how to phrase his question.

"What just happened back there?" Sauron offered.

"Yes."

"No."

Aragorn gave a sound of exasperation. "Well, can't I know anything at all?" He ran his hands through his hair and collapsed onto a pile of cushions. Inexplicably, he felt suddenly very close to tears. Sauron glanced at him uncomfortably.

"The other man, the one who touched you, his name is Mirroc. He is the emperor of Harad, here on business with me. It is unfortunate that you arrived during his stay here," Sauron said quietly. He poured Aragorn a glass of water and handed it to him.

"What did he say to you?"

"He is rude and power-hungry; he said nothing of import," Sauron said with a look of annoyance. "I won't bore you with the details of my foreign policy."

Aragorn nodded, absolutely certain that courtesy was not Sauron's reason for ending the conversation. He made a mental note to ask Kadin the next time he saw him; then, not knowing what to say, he stared awkwardly and anxiously at his hands. He could feel Sauron's eyes on him, and it made him nervous, but he couldn't bring himself to look back. The tension mounted in the room, and he felt, rather than heard, Sauron step closer. Sun-soaked skin appeared before him, motioning silently that he hand something over. Aragorn looked up with a question on his face. Sauron took his hand, slipped the ring off his finger, and turned to leave. He looked over his shoulder.

"Do not try to escape."

**A/N: ** Please, please review! Pretty please with a cherry on top! Even if it's just to say 'I love it' or 'I hate it'! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ** I sincerely apologize for not posting before now! I've been sick for like a month, so I've gotten really behind on my work. The semester is really picking up, so I'm not sure when I'll have chapter 5 done, but I'll do my best! Also, do people want titles? I couldn't think of one for this chapter, and I just wanted to put it up so people could read it. If you want them, let me know!

Also, I think I'm going to start a Drarry, so that might take up some of my writing time. It's still in the early planning stages though.

Next, thank you thank you thank you to all my wonderful reviewers! It's really great to get positive feedback :) And I completely agree, Sally, I still check Rebuilding a Life to see if it's been updated, even though I'm pretty sure it's been years. To give credit where credit is due, the Dark Lord's Consort was part of my inspiration :)

To my one annoyed reviewer, I'm honestly sorry I didn't make the warning more obvious! (Even though you'll probably never read this.) However, it is in there, and the fact that you didn't see it make me concerned that people are not reading the A/N. They're really important (sometimes).

So, I have two messages: **READ THE A/N! **and **THIS IS SLASH!**

Enjoy :D

**Chapter 4**

Eyes narrowed, arms crossed, stance widened: it was clear, Sauron stood face to face with an irate Internal Affairs Minister. He let his eyebrows float up into his fringe.

"Just what do you think you are doing?" Kadin demanded. Sauron rolled his eyes and began walking toward the stairs.

"What is it that you're not telling me? What are you planning? If it was information you wanted from Estel then you should not have sent me, and you should not have brought him here. Sauron - "

"Would you lower your voice?" he hissed, spinning around. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but we're on the brink of a world war." He muttered so that Kadin had to lean in to hear him. "He wants the throne, my friend. He'll take it by force if he must, but he'd prefer simply to pull strings in the dark. He is tightening the noose. I need an advantage."

"Kintakhim, the western plain is teeming with your armies. We could easily hold him off at the southern gate."

"And burn the rice fields? Destroy Nurn? We would have nothing left. Nothing left to pay back . . ." he stopped talking and looked askance at his friend.

"How much have you borrowed from him?"

"Enough," he said, shaking his head in worry. "Enough to make it a concern."

"You ought to have come to me with this. My _job_ is to handle these type of issues, to help you make these type of decisions - "

"I know, Kadin," Sauron interrupted, exasperated.

"You cannot run this country by yourself, _Ulembe,_" Kadin said gently. Sauron looked at him with a calculating stare.

"He does not like you very much, probably because you are honest and not easily manipulated."

"I am aware," Kadin said flatly. "I see no reason why that should stop you from discussing these matters with me."

Sauron let out a frustrated sigh.

"I will be frank with you. I know we often disagree, about important issues, and I feel that I have been making decisions that would upset you, and that I cannot keep from making them. He is playing a complex game," he said, slowly and deliberately. He glanced nervously at Kadin.

"Sauron . . ."

"I know. I know what you will say. But I must be able to provide security and well-being for my people, and therefore I cannot have him as an enemy."

"Do not lie to yourself." Kadin's words rammed into the space left by Sauron's voice. "I know what he whispers to you in passing, do not mistake me for a fool. Think long and hard about you just said, _Kintakhim_. When, in the history of time, has war had a positive effect on the population?"

"You are a fool." Sauron spat back. "War is by far the best thing for our economy; when industry improves, people get rich."

"No, Sauron. _You _get rich. _We _get rich. _The people _die in large numbers and in misery." With this, he turned on his heel, and left Sauron to run his hands through his hair in agitation.

When Kadin entered the room, Aragorn was staring pensively out onto the courtyard. He turned at the sound of the door, but didn't speak.

"How are you feeling, Rranger?" he asked, switching smoothly into the Common Tongue.

"I am as well as can be expected, Kadin."

"You must be uneasy . . ."

Aragorn looked at him pervasively, and with sharpness.

"He sent you. He sent you to talk to me."

"No, Arragorn, he did not send me."

"But he has asked you to be kind to me. Do not deny it, the answer is in your eyes."

Kadin gave a nervous shuffle. His eyes flicked to the ground, to the wall, to the courtyard, and rested on a woman circling the level below them. Aragorn saw her through the open archways; he saw her hold out her arms to a child and sweep him up into her arms; he saw her laughter, even though he was too far to hear it, and he thought she was beautiful. He missed Arwen.

"I would have been kind to you anyway, Estel. Crruelty is not in my naturre." The change in his tone of voice was drastic enough to claim Aragorn's gaze.

"I do not believe that it is," he said quietly. Kadin nodded his gratitude. They stood in silence for a few moments.

"Kadin," Aragorn began, "What did Mirroc say to Sauron?"

The man looked at him calculatingly, and Aragorn tried to look as unassuming as possible. Kadin sighed and rubbed his chin with anxiety.

"He said . . . he said . . . he claimed rresponsibility for yourr capture. He and Saurron are in a, a powerr strruggle, you could say."

"That's all?"

"What do you mean, 'that's all'?"

"Well, you looked so angry, and the way he, I mean . . ." Aragorn trailed off, and Kadin gazed at him intently.

"What? What did you think he said?" he asked. Aragorn gave a gasp of frustration.

"I do not know, I only thought it would have been more sinister, given the reaction."

"It is sinisterr, Rranger, I can assure you." They shared a look weighed down with meaning.

"I see." But really he didn't see.

"Well, I must - "

"Wait," Aragorn interrupted, then trailed off. He recognized the farewell tone in Kadin's voice and wasn't prepared for it. Kadin looked at him, bemused.

"Don't worry, you arre frree to move arround. This rroom is not a jail cell."

"Sauron said not to leave."

"Sauron can frry himself." There was a pause.

"What?"

"Oh, I suppose it does not trranslate. We have a worrd, _yitniz_, that means to fry or bake in the sun, because it is so hot. We use it forr 'he _yitnaz_ on the long walk' orr 'be careful at the marrket so you don't _yitnizin_.' It is actually verry dangerrous; people die in the countrry verry often. But in popular speech it has become an insult, to mean, well, I don't know how to say. In Morodorlin it is _Sauron yim yitnizeena._"

"Ok, I see, I understand, _Sauron yim yitnizeena,_" Aragorn said with a laugh. They were silent for a moment, but it was not uncomfortable. Kadin considered Aragorn, what he was made of, and what had caused this childlike dependency. Nevermind, he knew what had caused it. It was tearing him away from the one place he wanted to be above all else, but at the end of the day, Kadin was a kind man.

"Well, would you like a tourr of the palace? I can show you the librarry," Kadin suggested. Aragorn nodded and stood, following Kadin out into the hallway, who then immediately turned and began walking backwards.

"Now, Estel, the most imporrtant thing to rrememberr about the palace is that you _will_ be lost most of time. The building has 6 floorrs, and the higherr you go, the lowerr yourr rrank. Kintachim and his closest advisorrs on the second, honorred guests on the thirrd (that's you), offices and housing for prrovincial goverrnorrs on the fifth, and the sixth is the librrarry."

"So, you live on the second?" Aragorn interrupted.

"Yes. I'll show you that laterr. _Shon_, so, the thrrone rroom and the kitchens forrm, I guess, the back and the frront. You see the kitchens, therre?"

As they were walking, the passage had shifted from the outside of building, with half-arches facing out across the grounds, to the inside, looking out over the courtyard. Glowing rays from the setting sun splashed across the warm sandstone, and the air was filled with the rich smells of cooking oil and spices and the sound of laughter. Aragorn leaned over the balcony to watch children running haphazardly through the gardens, draped in cool shade. A gentle breeze flowed lazily from the outward windows to rustle through his loose tunic. Following Kadin's finger, he found the kitchens, directly across from the throne room.

"So, is that where I will eat?"

Kadin opened his mouth to answer, but at that moment a door behind them opened, and he turned.

"Asucule, Kadin," the man said, in an accent similar to Mirroc's. "_Aragorn leen layik?"_

"_Im,_" Kadin answered with a nod, then, turning to Aragorn, "Estel, this is Khamao; he works forr Mirroc."

Aragorn nodded to him, and, with a shy glance toward Kadin, said, "Elham boro." Kadin laughed and said something Aragorn didn't understand, but it sounded positive.

"Elham boro," Khamao said in response; he flashed a clipped smile, nodded to Kadin, and made his way smoothly downstairs.

"_Ha,_ yes; I mean, no, you do not eat in the kitchens, usually," Kadin said, transitioning awkwardly between languages.

"What does Khamao do for Mirroc?"

"He is Firrst Officerr."

"What does that mean? And, so, do I eat in my room?"

"Actually, I think he is Firrst Counselorr."

"Speaking of eating, when is dinner?"

"What it means, I do not know. It is imporrtant, whateverr it is. Dinnerr is within the hourr."

"Oh. You really don't know?" Aragorn asked. Kadin shook his head, and Aragorn spent the next two seconds sifting through their convoluted conversation to see if he had any unanswered questions. He found he did, as usual, but was quickly distracted.

"So, the kitchens and the thrrone rroom are back and frront, and the two main stairrcases are the sides," Kadin continued, pointing to two beautiful spiral staircases made of an earthy red sandstone with what looked like mahogany railings. They reached from the courtyard all the way to the sixth floor.

"They're gorgeous," Aragorn said honestly, impressed that he had found a place comparable in beauty to Imladris.

"What?"

"Oh, gorgeous, it means beautiful, but it is a stronger word."

"I see. Yes, they arre indeed," he said. "Now, if Yamuz wills it, we will surrvive our jourrney to the librarry."

"Yamuz?"

"It is, well, you will learrn. Sauron is betterr for explaining."

Aragorn accepted this for the moment, considering the already overwhelming amount of new information he was attempting to process. They started up the staircase.

"Oh, if you look therre," Kadin pointed downwards through the railing, "you can see my doorr. It says _Aozan su Hamina Finsiya, _Minister of Interrnal Affairrs, if you need me. But you cannot rread. Well, you will manage."

"Yes, I will remember. But you are coming now, yes?" Aragorn asked, slightly nervous.

"I will show you the way, Rranger, but I have not seen my wife or my childrren in 382 days, not counting today, and I would like to make that a priorrity." At this Aragorn started guiltily.

"Oh, Kadin, I'm so sorry, please go. I have been selfish," he said earnestly, remembering the way Kadin's eyes had followed the woman and her child when they had stood on the balcony. "I will find the library, it cannot be too difficult."

"Are you surre?" Kadin asked, smiling in the way that people do when they are asking politely for something they ought to have received.

"Yes, of course."

"Ok. When you get to the top go to yourr left, therre arre books in Elvish."

Kadin disappeared down the stairs, and Aragorn started up them slowly, looking closely at everything to make sure he didn't get lost. People he passed on the staircase gave him strange looks; clearly the news of his arrival was not common knowledge. He reached the top floor, still bathed in sunlight, and looked out over the courtyard to give his thoughts a moment to drift out of the boxes he had put them in; he considered them one by one, letting them float in and out of his consciousness as they pleased; he needed to breathe. It was clear Kadin had told him a half-truth, had wanted to keep something from him, something he felt he could only insinuate and not say out loud. Aragorn pondered the reasons for this. They were many, and unfathomable. But it had worried Kadin, which made him nervous.

He felt a headache coming on and he took a mental step back. If he looked too closely his thoughts would start spinning in sickening, terrifying circles again, which was not only unpleasant but extremely unhelpful. No matter what proceeded to happen to him, he was stuck here, and he would have to come to terms with that. Truthfully, he thought to himself, he didn't expect it to be that difficult. He could learn the language. He had a friend. No one seemed to be preparing to torture him. He held on to that thought for a moment, letting it circle around his head. Sauron specifically didn't seem to want to torture him, and didn't give off the impression that he was capable of extreme cruelty. This was by far the most surprising and inscrutable inconsistency he'd yet encountered. How could _Sauron,_ the ancient enemy of Númenor, creator of the One Ring, destroyer of all that is good, a _Maia_, by Elendil, be _friends_ with someone like Kadin? There was clearly something more to him than pure evil, which was upsetting, because that would definitely make his current sense of morality far more complicated. Aragorn sighed and stared at his finger where the ring of Barahir had been. He felt an emptiness without it, or a _lostness_, as if all the connections he had to his home had been taken with it. He felt extraordinarily vulnerable. He reflected on this, and came to the realization that he _was _extraordinarily vulnerable. Turning suddenly to avoid further thinking, Aragorn pushed through the heavy mahogany doors and set himself to finding a book on Morodorlin grammar in Elvish.

An hour or so after dinner, Kadin was sitting in the main room of his apartment, when Sauron opened the door; without knocking, as was normal. He smiled with fondness at this forgotten discourtesy.

"How is His Evilness?" Kadin asked, referring to Mirroc, with whom he presumed Saruon had just finished eating.

"As well and as evil as ever, unfortunately. He wants to send his armies through Nurn, so we can combine forces, or some such nonsense. It will be interesting to see what sort of threat he comes up with to get to me to agree," Sauron said, taking a seat on the cushions along the wall. The nearest of Kadin's seven children piled into their father's lap to give him room.

"Happy to have _sosa_ back, are we?" he asked them. They smiled, nodded, and spoke in disjointed sentences about things that made little to no sense. He laughed, and watched his best friend's face fill with immeasurable warmth. It always made him feel more than a little bit lonely, sitting by while Kadin had his life and his family. Music, and the cool spring air, floated in from the door he had left open.

"_Yamuz shi_, I have missed being home," Kadin said with a contented sigh.

"I missed having you here," Sauron admitted quietly. They shared a look. A woman outside was singing a song they all knew, but couldn't quite grasp its meaning.

The moment passed; Kadin's wife, Yomina stirred slightly.

"So, tell me about this northerner you've brought home," she asked conspiratorially.

"He seems like a decent fellow, although he harbors all of the outrageous stereotypes his kind seem so fond of," Kadin answered; he proceeded to recount Aragorn's wildly inaccurate beliefs about Mordor to the great amusement of his audience.

"Speaking of Aragorn," Sauron began, laughter still rippling through him, "You know what we've forgotten?"

"What?"

"Well, maybe you got him something to eat?"

Kadin swore. The room exploded in another burst of laughter.

"He must still be in the library, I thought he would come back here when he was hungry," Kadin explained. "I suppose I'll go find him."

"No, stay, stay. I'll go," Sauron said, getting up. Kadin gave him an odd look.

"What?" Sauron asked in response, although he knew the answer. It wasn't every day that he _volunteered_ to walk all the way up to the library to run an errand.

"Nothing. I will see you tomorrow? I suppose I ought to call a meeting to see what has been going on."

"Yes, yes, that will be good. See if you can take care of that in the morning, we have things to discuss."

"Alright," Kadin said with an understanding smile. For an immortal being, Sauron was rather easy to read.

"Have a good night, then," he said, jiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You know I will," Kadin grinned, Yomina blushed, and Sauron disappeared into the night. Climbing the staircase slowly, Sauron reflected on what Kadin's look had insinuated. He shoved the train of thought away immediately, as he did with most of his thoughts.

The library was dark, but Sauron knew his way in and out of the shelves with his eyes closed; his body had long ago memorized the motions that took him around the low tables and the stacks of books overflowing from the shelves. He stopped when he saw the flickering light of Aragorn's candle. He was sitting in a window facing out across the grounds; a book was open in his hands, but he wasn't looking at it. Sauron drunk in the sight of him. The weight of the destiny he had changed was not lost on him; it beat and resounded in his heart, and he wished he understood what it would mean.

"Aragorn," he whispered. The man's head spun around so fast Sauron was worried he would fall out the window. He stepped closer and leaned against the wall, Aragorn's gaze steady and more than a little defensive.

"You haven't eaten."

"Oh, no, I suppose I haven't," he said, as if trying to remember whether this was true. Sauron chuckled at him.

"Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I suppose I am," he answered, making Sauron laugh again. Aragorn rather thought this was a little too familiar to be comfortable. He took his time picking up his books; it was the first time he'd had a chance to really _look_ at his captor. His hair was dark; long; straight, but with a slight wave, and it was cut short in the front so that it fell sometimes across his eyes. These were deeply set, narrow, and, interestingly enough, vibrantly green. It was a powerful face, with a well-defined jaw bone, and regal enough that, when he stopped smirking playfully, he looked to Aragorn like the kings of Númenor at the height of her power. It was breath-taking, really, the way he leaned casually against the wall, staring absently out the window, letting the wind toss his hair in his face, looking for all the world like he wasn't a threat, and yet, and yet . . . Their eyes met, and Aragorn shivered.

"Can I take these back to my room?"

"Of course. Come, we will go to the kitchens to find something. I have a feeling it would be unwise to interrupt Kadin at the moment."

It took Aragorn a moment to get the reference, but when he did, it certainly did nothing to make him feel more at ease; he followed Sauron wordlessly down to the courtyard nonetheless. Dusk had deepened to night, and the music of the woman and her friends had given way to gentle chirping. They stepped into the dimly lit kitchen; clinking dishes and a woman humming sleepily under her breath broke the silence. Sauron approached her; she bowed, averted her eyes, and produced a tray of rice, a light soup, and tea. Aragorn shoved his books under his arms and made to take it, but Sauron waved him away and took it himself.

"Thank you," he whispered. The made their slow, silent, slightly awkward way up to Aragorn's room. Sauron set the tray down and stood for a moment with his hands on his hips.

"Would you like company?" he asked. Aragorn nearly choked.

"No, no, that's quite alright."

"As you prefer."

"I suppose you do not mind then, if I wander around by myself? I was worried you would, but Kadin said it didn't matter."

"Kadin consistently displays a disturbing disregard for what I say. But I suppose I cannot expect you to stay locked in your room all day. There is no reason for that, as long as you do not take to eavesdropping outside my conference rooms."

"I do not speak the language," Aragorn pointed out.

"You will learn. I have a feeling it will not take you long. Although, Aragorn, I would be cautious; Mirroc will be here for another week or so, and I do not know for sure that he will not threaten you," Sauron said, suddenly far more serious.

"What does he want from me? Kadin said he claimed responsibility for capturing me," Aragorn asked, forgetting, in his curiosity, how uncomfortable he had been a moment ago.

"Is that what he said?" Sauron chuckled to himself, then changed his tone jaggedly. "Do not go behind my back to get information, Aragorn. Kadin is naïve and overly kind, watch you do not take advantage of that," he said evenly, with a look that made Aragorn want to shrink until he was out of sight. Sauron stepped forward; he violently resisted the impulse to back up.

"Always remember that you have a comfortable room and a comfortable level of freedom. I can take that away faster than you can blink."

"I – I didn't mean, I wasn't trying to take advantage of him, I just wanted to know," Aragorn protested, his voice dying to a whisper. Sauron stared at him, as if sizing him up.

"Mirroc claimed _you,_" Sauron said suddenly, making Aragorn's eyes widen in shock. "He said he would have liked to keep you, had he not promised you to me. Which is not at all what happened; I captured you, he had nothing to do with it, end of story," he finished, looking extremely annoyed. His eyes drifted away from the conversation, focusing instead on some deeply smoldering, righteous passion. Aragorn called him back.

"Keep me?"

Sauron made a noise of frustration and started moving toward the door anxiously, internally berating himself for starting this conversation.

"By Elendil, Aragorn, do not be so thick."

Aragorn flung his hands out in exasperation, his pride smarting slightly. "What in the world - "

"Sex, Aragorn, he was talking about sex," Sauron interrupted with embarrassed anger. "How is that not obvious?"

Aragorn felt his heart stop beating and then start up again at a frantic pace. He stared, trying desperately to piece together the implications. If Sauron noticed his prisoner's terrified confusion, he offered no further explanation. They stood facing each other, as if on opposite sides of a brick wall. Then the pieces smashed together into a battering ram of catharsis, and the wall was knocked down but he was too afraid to look. Sauron inched closer to him, concerned and incapable of hiding it. Aragorn eyes snapped like a cat that has noticed the tiniest of movements in the hay, and suddenly he could see everything, the look in Sauron's eyes, the way Mirroc had touched him, Kadin's worry, but he couldn't say a word. He was a prisoner in the home of his greatest enemy, who had now become his only protection against –

"Relax, Aragorn, he's not about to walk through the door," Sauron said gently.

"Why are you protecting me?" The question barely made it past his lips, as if the only reason he spoke at all was because it was too loud in his head.

"It was convenient. I'm not really protecting you, at least not for your sake. Don't mistake me for a kind man, Aragorn."

His voice was hard and sharp like a blade, but brittle like one too, Aragorn thought to himself. He stood still.

"I see," he whispered. This time he did see. Sauron gave a mirthless smile and stepped close to him, so they stood face to face.

"You are a strong man, Aragorn. You are a leader. I can use that. I have no desire to break it."

"I will _never _work for you," he spit angrily.

Sauron came close enough to be threatening and whispered darkly in his ear, "Then I will break it."

He backed up without breaking eye contact, and still Aragorn held his ground; but the door closed, and he sank to his knees, pressing his lips into his shaking hands.

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Please review and I will give you hearts! Kadin says a line in here that is from the opening scenes of Blood Diamond. If you found it, good for you :D


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Oh my god, I actually finished it. Here, at long last, is chapter 5. I'm soooo soooo sorry for taking so long to update, but I'm glad I did because I needed some time to rethink where this is going. Also, sorry for not doing chapter titles, I just can't think of anything and really wanted to post :/

**Warning:** I don't know if I've said it already, but this story will contain non-con, as well as dub-con and just plain old con. I'm not going to describe sex scenes in unnecessary detail, but there will be some, especially early on. I'm putting the warning on this chapter because THERE WILL BE NON-CON SEX SOMEWHERE IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS and I don't want to make it obvious when it's going to happen. However, there is NO SEX AT ALL IN THIS CHAPTER.

**_Chapter 5_**

"Kintachim, why the blazes do we not have _any _assessments for the past quarter?"

"What?"

"_Yamuz Ilaak._"

Kadin stormed out and down the corridor, leaving Sauron behind in a meeting room full of papers and men who had never, ever said 'why the blazes'; they looked at him like he had grown horns, which is only to say, like he was different from them. And he was; they had grown unused to that. Kadin, for his part, noticed none of this; his vision was full of clouds of rage that were reacting poorly to being compressed by his rising stress levels. He stormed across the courtyard and cursed again when he stepped on the hot stones in his bare feet, resorting in aggravation to jumping wildly over the pathways. It was mark of the general temperament of Sauron's rule that no one stopped to stare. The quickly forming hurricane smashed it's way into the office of the High Commissioner of Dekham Province and Acting Minister of Internal Affairs.

"Muzaim!"

Muzaim jumped a foot in the air and stared like a deer in the headlights.

"Why the blazes do we not have any assessments for the past quarter!"

"I . . . I, well, the other commissioners have not turned in their reports . . . I have mine here, would you like to review it?"

Kadin gripped his hair and resisted the urge to scream.

"Call a meeting of all of the provincial commissioners immediately." He turned toward the door. "And their undersecretaries!" He was out on the veranda. "And their regional governors! And their blazing head-of-districts!" He slammed the door.

Aragorn chuckled as he watched Kadin storm down the hall and out of sight. The bustle of Ishq-dur had awoken him only a couple hours after he'd fallen asleep, slumped over the table and using _Morodorlin: A Basic Grammar_ as a pillow. He desperately wanted to climb into bed and sleep until noon, but it was clear his body wouldn't let him; he had never been able to sleep much past dawn. Except for afternoon naps, which he loved almost as much as a hot bath in winter. He had a feeling today's afternoon nap might just extend until tomorrow morning.

A sharp pang in his midsection forced his attention to the tray of food he hadn't been able to stomach the night before. He picked up the cold bowl of rice and began reluctantly to mull over last night's conversation. Sauron's last comment immediately made him feel sick and shaky all over again; he shoved it aggressively out of his mind and turned instead to the issue of Mirroc. Emperor of Harad. Here on 'business' with Sauron, but clearly _not_ his friend, not even his ally of convenience. What could he possibly have to gain by threatening his enemy's enemy? The hand on his waist had been a message to Sauron, far more than it had been to him. Aragorn suddenly felt like a pawn caught up in delicate chess game, the rules of which were far beyond his comprehension. But he _wasn't _a pawn; pawns could be replaced, if you lost one, you just got another, but _he_ couldn't be replaced; his life meant something different, and for some reason it _had _to be the heir of Isilidur sitting between these two men. His coming had changed the game, Aragorn could practically taste it. The whole building was off kilter.

He sighed and put his head in his hands, and again the world-shattering feeling of having _nothing _recognizable in sight overwhelmed him. Whatever their game - he said to himself, straightening with resolve - whatever they were planning, he would decide his own fate. He was nobody's toy, but a king in exile; and he would act like it, by Elendil. There was a soft knock on the door before Kadin's face appeared, along with a bowl of porridge and fruit.

"I heard you having a fit downstairs," Aragorn said with a quiet smirk.

"Yes, well, the entire countrry has gone to sea while I was away, apparently. Kintachim rreally should have sent someone else to fetch you."

"Fetch me? As I recall it was more along the lines of kidnap. And thank you," he responded, taking the proffered bowl.

"No, you see, that was the orrcs. I fetched you frrom the orrcs. Technically I am your rrescuer," Kadin said all this with a straight face, then dissolved into chuckles at the sight of Aragorn's raised eyebrows.

"So, gone to sea? I suppose this is another mistranslated phrase?" he asked.

"Oh, _hammaz im mai, _to go to sea. It is like, to fall into unorrder," Kadin clarified.

"Disorder."

"Yes, disorrder."

Kadin glanced at the tray, the open books, and the untouched bed before sighing in frustration. Aragorn began picking all the fruit out his porridge.

"You rreally ought to trry sleeping, Estel, most humans find it highly beneficial."

Aragorn snorted. "It's never really been my cup of tea."

"What did Kintachim say, then, to keep you awake?" Kadin asked more softly, dropping the playful jab. Aragorn glanced at him before returning to his breakfast.

"He didn't say anything."

"I see." Kadin opened his mouth to say something else, but then though better of it, resorting to scrutinizing his companion. They were silent for a moment, and Aragorn continued to push his food around with his spoon until Kadin let out a low chuckle.

"I used to do that when I was five, you know. Eat all the frruit and then tell _soma_ that I had not been given any." He raised his eyebrows and Aragorn had the decency to look shamed.

"Don't make fun," he answered softly, taking a large bite to regain his honor. He looked up suddenly, "What were you yelling about in the courtyard?"

"Oh, like I said, the countrry's gone to sea," he said casually, as if discussing the weather. "It seems no one thought to keep trrack of, well, anything at all. I have no idea how much food has been grrown and planted, how much we need, what has been built, what has fallen down, if any generrals have rrecently gone to warr with each other and rrazed the countrryside, if the economy has completely collapsed." He paused to sigh in annoyed despair before his tone sharpened. "I do know, howeverr, exactly how many weapons we have prroduced and the grrowth rrate of the orrc population. Just goes to show you where our prriorities lie."

"Well, that seems like quite a situation," Aragorn said, rather surprised. Wasn't Sauron supposed to be running this country? What in the world did he spend his time doing?

"Yes, it will to take a while to clean up." He paused and looked a little uncomfortable. "I have to go visit a couple of the majorr prrovinces. I will be gone forr two or thrree weeks."

"Oh?" Aragorn said, Kadin's sudden pronouncement having gained his full attention.

"Yes, I am leaving tomorrrow, in fact. We will eat together tonight, someone will come to get you. I am sorrry, but it is verry necessarry that I go," Kadin answered.

"Of course it is. Sounds like it will be a task though."

"Therre will not be verry much for you to do herre, but therre is always the library, and I am cerrtain you are allowed to walk through the grrounds, at least with a guard." When Aragorn only nodded he continued conspiratorially, "Nothing's going to happen to you while I'm gone, I'll make sure of it. And when I come back we'll, we'll get this sorted."

Aragorn stared at him, and sighed the way elementary school teachers do when explaining the same concept for the fifth time.

"Kadin, I'm not quite sure you understand the concept of _prisoner_. Something's going to happen to me and it's not going to be pleasant. That's just how these things go, you're going to have to accept it."

"Trrust me, Estel, the threat is not where you think it is."

"I beg to differ."

Kadin looked flustered for a moment before leaning in and taking hold of Aragorn's wrist. He jumped slightly at the touch, but upon seeing the earnest look on Kadin's face he leaned in to face him.

"I should not be telling you things like this, Estel, but I think it's imporrtant for you to know," he began softly. Aragorn felt a overwhelming desire to shake him into common sense, but decided that wasn't exactly in his best interests. "You are not herre because Saurron wants the exact location of Imladrris or the numberr and position of Gondorr's troops. You are herre because Mordor currently finds herrself in a situation in which it is convenient forr our actions to look like a warr of westward expansion."

Aragorn gaped at him. "Do you mean to say . . ."

"You know what I mean to say."

"What kind of situation . . ."

"Enough. I have alrready said too much," Kadin said, standing suddenly. "I will call someone to take carre of all of this." He gestured to the numerous bowls and cutlery littering the table. Aragorn exhaled sharply in shock and rising anger.

"You do realize you are playing with the lives of thousands of people? This isn't a game! I'm not a chess piece."

Kadin turned to look at him, expecting to see the mild mannered, if currently displeased, ranger. When instead he found defiance and righteous anger, the words he'd prepared to say died on his lips, to be replaced with a feeling of tired sadness.

"No, my lord, you arren't."

The rest of the Aragorn's day passed in a haze of heat and people-watching. When a young boy came to take his dishes, he practiced Morodorlin on him, much to the boy's confusion. The distraction served mainly to alert Aragorn to his own exhaustion; he slept on the balcony until mid-afternoon, and woke to singing and a light sunburn.

_These people sing almost as much as the Elves,_ he remarked to himself, and then snorted at the irony. He looked down into the courtyard. _Is that Sauron?_

And indeed it was Sauron. The Dark Lord of Mordor was currently sitting by the small fountain, being mercilessly splashed by one of Kadin's younger children, and mercilessly mocked by Kadin himself. Aragorn chuckled as he watched them, but before he could even begin to listen to what they were saying, Sauron's eyes had caught his own, and made his breath catch. Following his king's gaze, Kadin waved, and motioned for him to come down. This made Aragorn hesitate. He'd made a very conscious and, he thought, rather wise decision to avoid leaving his room at all costs, but he was really quite bored. Opening his door cautiously, he followed the route Kadin had shown him to the staircase and down into the courtyard. It was hot now, unbearable, really, in the sunlight; the leaves drooped low on their branches, teased by a soft breeze that wasn't strong enough to whisk away the sweat he could feel beading on his skin. The heaviness in the air made the sounds of laughter and distant music sleepy, and although they were comfortable they were foreign to him, and his missed the light, airy singing that rose from Rivendell on clear nights. He walked in the sandals he'd been given across the stone pathways and over grass quickly turning to dust, and approached the shade tree under which Kadin and Sauron were now standing.

"_Bas-him,_" Aragorn said, meaning good afternoon.

"_Bas-himin nissi Yamuz-is behaida," _Sauron said in response. Aragorn gave a start and glanced at Kadin, who promptly began laughing.

"It is only a more elaborrate grreeting, Estel," he said. "You look better, did you sleep a little?"

"Yes, thank you," Aragorn responded. His eyes snapped to Sauron the moment the man made a small motion forward.

"You did not sleep? Are you not well?" he asked. Little lines of concern etched their way around his eyes, and Aragorn was again struck by simple humanity in Sauron's face, framed in jet-black hair and brushed with a light coating of stubble. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it wasn't this.

"No, but I am fine. I will sleep tonight."

"Are you sure? I can get you something from the apothecary if you wish, for nerves or . . ." Sauron had taken another step forward but had stopped short at the smoldering look in Aragorn's eyes.

"I am not made of glass, Kintachim. I assure you, I will not break." His voice was solid rock. Sauron straightened at the obvious reference to his earlier threat, and crossed his arms.

"I would think it rather foolish, to refuse kindness when it is offered to you."

"And I would think it rather foolish to offer such kindness to one's enemies."

"Would you? Very well then, I can have you locked in the dungeons immediately."

"But you won't."

"Is that so?"

Aragorn stared him down, calling his bluff. Kadin's eyes bounced back and forth between the two men in a way that would have been humorous if anyone had been paying attention.

"Umm," Kadin began, breaking the charged silence carefully, "I have to go to a meeting with the Minister of Agriculture. Kintachim, would you like to attend or-"

"No."

"Ok. _Henssi da_, Estel."

"_Da._"

They were silent for a moment, before Sauron finally looked away to call a server for something Aragorn couldn't catch.

"Well played, Elessar. I do not want to put you in the dungeons. Besides you are no common prisoner of war." He stepped forward slightly, now scrutinizing Aragorn's face as if he was cataloguing every wrinkle. "You have a mighty lineage."

Sauron's eyes were burning, and so incredibly green, and Aragorn couldn't move, couldn't look away. He was close enough now that when the breeze picked up he could feel the man's tunic rippling against his stomach.

"I remember, Aragorn," he whispered, "I remember them. It is a wonder to see you now; it's as if I can see them looking back at me through your eyes. Such beautiful eyes . ."

Sauron raised his hand to brush the loose strands of hair from Aragorn's face, and, as his fingers ghosted over his temple and cheekbone and came to rest under his chin, the spell was broken, and Aragorn flinched back.

"Don't touch me."

His own voice surprised him when it came out shakier than normal. He took a deep breath and clenched his fists; if Sauron, of all people, thought he was worthy of his heritage, then he ought to at least live up to it. The server returned and handed them each a glass of yellowish-colored juice.

"I'm sorry," Sauron said softly. The sincerity in his voice made Aragorn look up. Sauron's deep brown eyes were boiling with inscrutable emotion, but his face retained the same stern, stoic expression he always wore any time he wasn't looking at Kadin or smirking dangerously. Aragorn forced some of the tension out of his muscles, and took a sip of his drink. It was absolutely delicious.

"Mmm, this is amazing, what it is?" he asked in surprise. Sauron laughed at his sudden and drastic change of temperament, and Aragorn thought it was a rather wonderful sound. Any remaining tension immediately dissolved straight out of his body.

"It is _pecogeisa _juice. It's a fruit. This is a _pecogeisa _tree, actually," he said, pointing to the one under which they were standing. It's wide leaves concealed the tiny, delicate yellow flowers that grew sporadically near the leaf stems.

"This one has not yet fully blossomed, the flowers will get a little bigger, and then form fruit about the size of grapes," Sauron explained further at seeing his companion's interest.

Aragorn ran his fingers over the tree trunk lovingly, as if saying hello. His skin caught lightly on the bark, and he slipped out of his shoes to feel the roots reaching into the earth beneath him. Sauron watched him intently.

"_Pecogeisa . . ._ I wonder what your name is, in my language," he whispered in Elvish. The tree rustled quietly and he felt a slight tremor underneath his fingers. He hummed in response, wishing he had the skill of the elves in tree-waking. "How long have you sat in this courtyard, hm? What have you seen?" Resting his chin against the bark, he breathed deeply, but looked up when he felt Sauron's eyes on him. Before either of them could speak someone called to Sauron from the second floor. On second inspection Aragorn realized it was Khamao.

"You'll excuse me, Elessar," he said with a polite nod.

Sauron walked away quickly without waiting for a response; in fact he walked as quickly as possible while still appearing cool and collected. He was anything but cool and collected. He rather thought his heartbeat could be heard in Nurn. Instead of going straight to the office Khamao had returned to, Sauron slipped through a tiny passageway and into a back alcove that had been attached last year. He leaned back against the warm stone, put his face in his hands, and tried to control his breathing. His fingers still tingled where he had touched Aragorn's face.

A cool breeze wafted in through the open window, and Sauron sighed. It had almost been too much, the way the man's eyes had filled with light as he spoke to the tree like a long lost brother, the grace and silence with which he moved, the softness of his hair, the sparkle and emotion in his grey eyes, the firm shape of his body underneath the loose _ofurun_ . . . No, Sauron said to himself, No, no, no. That was not a safe line of thinking at all. He took a deep, calming breath. Self-control. He had to exercise self-control. He would not touch this man. It was a trap he had built himself that Mirroc had set for him, so obviously a trap now that the pieces had fallen into place, and he would not give in; he would not raise a hand against the sacred blood in Aragorn's veins, and he wouldn't let Mirroc do it either. Gondor would rise, Barad-dûr would fall, and Ishq-dûr would stand as it always had; out of sight. And something would be done about Harad. A deal would be arranged; no one is impervious to blackmail, it simply takes a skilled eye and a clever tongue.

With this reassurance, Sauron turned, and strode purposefully down the hallway. Khamao was in the Foreign Trade office, entrenched in a heated argument, by the sound of it. Sauron hesitated a moment at the door, listening.

"Minister, I realize your country is in a position of financial difficulty, but I cannot lower the price of grain. The point of exports is not to break even."

"I don't understand why you won't accept an equal offer of some other resource, we simply have little hard cash left in the coffers."

Sauron rolled his eyes. Of course he would have to deal with this right now. He pushed the door open without knocking, and the two men bowed to him immediately.

"Kintachim," Khamao began, dropping his gaze meekly, "forgive me, but I cannot accept less than 300 thousand _ososo_ for the resources you require."

Sauron rubbed his eyes tiredly, mentally chastising himself for getting into this mess. He studied Khamao's downcast face, noting the tiredness in his eyes. Nothing new, then. The man was as inscrutable as ever.

"My master would accept a trade in militaristic assets, however, if it would please my Lord to negotiate."

Sauron's Foreign Trade Minister, Ifam, gave a sigh of exasperation.

"I told you, that makes absolutely no financial sense for us. If we continue in this pattern our money will only travel in resource circles and benefit no one."

"Oh, so it is benefitting you, sitting in dank holes in Gorgoroth?"

Sauron raised his eyebrows, slightly shocked at Khamao's rather sudden and biting ability to insult. Ifam seemed at a loss for words.

"You seem tense, Khamao," Sauron said lightly. Khamao immediately dropped his eyes again.

"Forgive me, my Lord."

"I will negotiate. Where is Mirroc now?" He changed topics hesitantly, watching Khamao intently for clues. There was nothing but a slight tenseness in his body; he seemed strained, but that was hardly abnormal. Sauron realized he had never found a man more difficult to read.

"He is in the bathhouses, my lord, would it please Kintachim to await him in the meeting room?" Khamao asked. Sauron felt like he'd just been invited as a guest into his own home, and wondered if Khamao was doing it on purpose.

"Mirroc can seek me out when he returns, I have too many duties to simply await his convenience," he said, feeling uncooperative.

"Of course, my lord," Khamao said with a bow.

As he walked slowly in the direction of his rooms, Sauron was privy to the spectacle of a bunch of kitchen maids teaching Aragorn to dance. He smiled.

Aragorn himself spent the day blissfully unaware of Sauron's financial struggles. When the girls had to go back to their cooking, he returned to his room to get a better handle on the past tense, before the boy who took his dishes came to take him to Kadin's apartment. The soft light of evening seemed to make the walls glow, and Aragorn surprised himself by feeling rather content. The nightly breeze had already begun to pick up, shaking the heaviness from the trees and dancing lightly across the grass. It made him want to go up to roof and look out toward Ithilien and the setting sun. And Gondor. But instead he followed Mashi down the steps to Kadin's door. He could hear a woman yelling inside, and he knocked lightly.

"Estel! Come in. _Nazaa, _Mashi!" Kadin called down the hallway. The boy turned and waved, before disappearing into what Aragorn could only assume was the wall.

"Herre, this is my wife, Yomina. Yomina, _boraish Estel-lam._"

Aragorn nodded to her and made to speak, but Kadin continued his introductions without pause.

"And this is Amma," he said, pointed to a little girl hanging on his trousers, "the ones underr the table hitting each otherr with sticks are Namik and Hidar, the one helping her motherr in the kitchen is Foforra, the two just outside on the balcony are Imoua and Nissia, the one pulling all of my clothes out of my bag is Pahool, and the one sitting in the corrner rreading is Yith." He said all this in one breath as he moved to intercept Pahool, who was now threatening to throw Kadin's possessions off the balcony.

Aragorn shook his head and smiled at the woman bustling around the kitchen. She said hello to him quickly before returning to the unreasonable number of pots on the stone stove. As Kadin was distracted by his children, Aragorn watched her smooth dance around the room. She wore a long colorful dress, like the ones he had seen in Khadimit, wrapped around her ingeniously and revealing her thin, tanned arms. She caught him staring and blushed slightly, but quickly recovered and handed him a spoon.

"_Mapapai_," she said, making a stirring motion with her hand. Aragorn nodded his understanding and stood by stove, moving his hand absentmindedly. The room was hot with all the cooking, and loud with all the children, who were hanging on their father and generally causing chaos. He felt a little guilty for staring at Kadin's wife, so he did penance by not looking at her at all; instead he watched Kadin hurry back and forth between a backpack in the middle of the floor and what Aragorn could only assume was his bedroom, desperately attempting to stop Pahool from removing all the tunics from his backpack as he did so. He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at Kadin's packing. Who in the world needed three sets of clothes for a two week trip? The two litres of water were probably necessary, however. Kadin threw in a couple of blank leather-bound books and some loose papers before tying the cover over and tossing it in a corner, then laughed when he saw Aragorn stirring.

Aragorn was distracted from his shared look with Kadin by a soft hand on his arm; Yomina slipped the spoon from his hand and took the saucepan from the stove, so he stepped away toward the low table that sat against the wall, surrounded by cushions.

"I see you've been put to work rather quickly," Kadin said, pushing Aragorn down by the table and handing him a glass of water. "That tends to happen around here." He was up again in a moment, attempting to coral his children to the table, which was quickly filling with dishes; the mixing smells of chicken, rice, the light brothy soup he had eaten earlier filled his nose and made his stomach rumble. In a surprising short amount of time, Kadin had accomplished his seemingly insurmountable task, and eight small bodies sat around the table, in a relative state of calm.

"Imoua, Namik, _nona shish layik? _" Yomina said, her voice sharp but tempered with controlled laughter. Kadin's laughter was less controlled. "_Doraim faha!_" Aragorn felt highly successful as he translated in his head that the two rather sheepish looking children did not belong to Kadin's family.

"No, no, they can stay, it is alright," Kadin said in Mordorian, still laughing. Yomina shook her head, seemingly at everyone involved, and said something Aragorn didn't understand.

"Those two therre, they arre not my children - "

"I caught that, actually," Aragorn said, when Kadin turned to him to explain. His face lit up in exaltation, making Aragorn laugh. He then said something in congratulations that was highly colloquial and also highly vulgar, which made Yomina smack him on the back of the head, which in turn resulted in the tipping of the broth dish on poor Imoua, who immediately began yelling, at which point Sauron appeared at the door and cried out, "All bow before the king! What in the world is going on in here?" to which general silence reigned, until a look passed between Kadin and Sauron that sent both of them into hysterics.

"_Yamuz Ilaak,_" Sauron said, sitting down beside Aragorn once things had calmed down and the story had been retold for his benefit. Aragorn found himself watching him; something about him was slightly different than it had been before, as if his presence was filling up the space in the room, and Aragorn was reminded that he was not only sitting beside a king, but a Maia. He suddenly felt very human. He ran his fingers together underneath the table, feeling the dirt rubbing between them, and remembered how he had felt when the few young elflings living in Imladris had pushed him down and called him _'edan'_. He looked up into Sauron's curious gaze, and shook his head slightly. He received a wink in response, which he found to be rather disturbing; it sent a shock wave through his body, and he narrowed his eyes in Sauron's direction.

"Aragorn, have more to eat, you're too thin," Kadin said, dragging Aragorn's attention away from Sauron and piling food on his plate.

"_Nazaa,_" Aragorn answered, and the children across from him laughed and cheered outrageously, to the point the Sauron chastised them into at least yelling quietly. The conversation then turned into swift Mordorian. Aragorn followed at a distance, catching just enough to get the sense that Kadin's day had been full of an unfortunate number of struggles. They talked well into the night, and pretty soon the children were yawning, and Kadin was laying out blankets on the floor - called _minube_ - and Yomina was carrying the dishes into the kitchen, and Aragorn was sitting alone beside Sauron at the table. He rather thought the amount of time they were left alone together was becoming unacceptable.

"Forgive us, Elessar, for leaving you out of the conversation. Did you catch any of it?" he asked.

"It's alright, I need to learn. And I got a little. Kadin seems to have had a trying day."

"Yes, indeed," Sauron said with a laugh. "And yourself? I saw you learning to dance. You move like an elf."

At this Aragorn snorted into his teacup and glared.

"I most certainly do not."

"I meant it as a compliment," Sauron said, smirking despite himself.

"You most certainly didn't."

"Okay, maybe I didn't."

Aragorn rolled his eyes, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"More seriously, however, how do you find Ishq-dur?" Sauron asked again.

"Fine, thank you. I hope your day was better than Kadin's," Aragorn answered.

"My country is falling to pieces, what do you think?"

Aragorn glanced up at him in surprise. "Is it really falling to pieces?"

"Well, only a _little_."

Aragorn raised an eyebrow, and Sauron winked at him again. He narrowed his eyes again, but didn't say anything.

"Kintachim, I am going down to the stables to check on Rasia, would you like to come?" Kadin interrupted.

"Yes, I think I need a walk. Aragorn?"

He hesitated for a moment in surprise at the invitation, before curiosity got the better of his desire to stay as far away from the king of Mordor as possible.

"Yes, alright."

Aragorn dropped slightly behind as they stepped out into the night air; Kadin and Sauron spoke like old friends, with few words and much meaning. The swift, rumbling Mordorian lulled him away from the conversation and towards contemplating the milky light of the full moon. He had always preferred the stillness of night to daytime, another imprint from his elvish childhood, and found he loved it even more after the heat of day. There was something brilliantly _awake_ in the way the leaves rustled after dark, as if they were speaking to each other. Indeed, to the elves who spoke their language, they often were.

"What are you thinking of, Estel?" Kadin asked. Aragorn hadn't noticed they had stopped their conversation. He was silent a moment, feeling pensive.

"When I was a boy, on summer nights, my Lord Elrond would tell me what the trees were saying to each other, if he could catch it. You can still get news from the Old Forest west of Eriador, if you're lucky. Can you hear it, Kintachim? I would think if the Elves can speak to the trees, then the Maia certainly could."

At this Sauron stopped and stood still. The air shivered with sudden magic; Aragorn and Kadin held their breath. He turned, and as Aragorn saw him he seemed to grow brighter and stand taller; the lines in his face smoothed away, the stress disappeared from his shoulders, and for one shining moment, as Sauron watched the wind in the trees, Aragorn beheld an angel.

"Yes, Aragorn, I can hear it." There was age in his voice, and when his eyes fell on Aragorn there was age in them, too.

He stood his ground despite the power and nobility in Sauron's gaze; the green in his eyes had darkened considerably, as if the laughter that had disappeared from his face had taken the light along with it, and a slight sadness hung on his shoulders. Aragorn watched all of this, mesmerized, until Sauron turned away a moment later, and the strange power that had come over him blew away in the breeze. He said nothing, and Aragorn and Kadin followed him across the lawn in silence.

They exited the palace through a side door, low enough that Aragorn found it necessary to bend down beneath the crooked keystone, and came out into a small gatehouse. The guard who had been nodding off beside a low fire stood up to greet them, but when he saw Aragorn he narrowed his eyes in suspicion and whispered something to Sauron, who waved him off impatiently. He inclined his head in Aragorn's direction as they passed through, but with a look that made it clear he would rather put him in chains.

The land surrounding the palace was full of gardens with winding paths that tapered off into open fields or led away to other parts of the expansive palace grounds. In the dark Aragorn couldn't even see the outside wall. The path they were walking along curved slightly to the left, and was lined every so often with lanterns hanging from the trees. Here and there another walkway would branch off, and when Aragorn peered down through the deepening shade he could see houses, or buildings, with warm, flickering lights behind the curtained windows. Birds chirped quietly in the trees, but other than their small whispered 'good nights' there was no sound.

Aragorn strained his ears for footsteps, sure there must some sort of watch hidden in the shadows, but he neither heard nor felt any presence. He began to wonder whether they would meet anyone on their way to the stables, and if the horses were pastured outside the grounds, and if Kadin was planning to leave by a way other the main gate, and, if he was, if the level of security would resemble that of the side door they had just used. He was fairly confident he could kill the lone guard they had encountered without raising any alarm; he was also fairly confident he wouldn't have to, if he was allowed to build up a habit of going out to sit in the gardens.

The trees gave way suddenly to open fields; nothing more than knee-length grass seemed to survive in the country without constant attention. The path dropped them off in front of a barn, and Aragorn breathed in the familiar smell of horses and hay and freedom that he would always associate with riding. Kadin ducked into the small room built for the stable hand, leaving Aragorn and Sauron to mosey down the aisle slowly. Most of the horses blinked sleepily at them, but one pranced forward to his stall door and nudged his nose curiously into Aragorn's upper arm. He stopped to say hello, running his hand along the horse's warm, chestnut brown face and scratching him behind the ears. He was young still, barely grown into adulthood; Aragorn studied him as he sniffed him over for apples, and noticed the telltale signs of a horse not yet broken in. He turned to Sauron.

"He hasn't yet been ridden?"

"No, he only just turned three. Last month, I believe."

"_Man eneth l__ì__n?_" Aragorn whispered in Elvish.

"Name? He hasn't been ridden. The trainer always names the horse."

"Really? Interesting. I suppose it is hard to know a horse before you ride him." The pony butted Aragorn with his nose, as if demanding his undivided attention. "Affectionate, isn't he?" he added with a wry smile.

"Would you like to train him?" Sauron said suddenly. Aragorn glanced at him in surprise.

"Yes," he responded hesitantly, "But . . ."

"He's yours." Sauron spread his arms wide in a gesture of generosity, and Aragorn raised his eyebrows.

"You're giving him to me?"

"Hennik has the saddle all ready for Rasia," Kadin said, stepping out of the stable-hand's room. Both of the men jumped at his sudden presence, having almost forgotten that he was present at all. "We ought to check on her before we go."

Aragorn made to turn to Kadin, but as he did so Sauron caught his eye and winked – _again_ – before turning away toward the far end of the stables. Aragorn caught himself just in time before he let a curt 'stop doing that' past his lips. He doubted it was wise to challenge the king's authority in front of people, especially when he'd just been given such a generous gift. He wondered if Sauron would hold to it; it seemed the kind of gift one would later regret.

After saying hello to Rasia, they made their slow way back to the palace. Goodbyes were said before Kadin's door, and he slipped inside to get some much needed rest before the journey.

"Goodnight, Kintachim," Aragorn said quietly. He turned to walk quickly down the hall, and Sauron had to grip the railing to keep himself from reaching out and pulling the ranger back.


End file.
